


Innocence

by Kandco



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Coming of Age, F/M, Just read the notes, M/M, Top Dean, don't come complaining to me, don't read it if you don't like messed up stuff, i cant be bothered to tag anymore, i won't listen, this place is really messed up, yo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9789905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kandco/pseuds/Kandco
Summary: Castiel - the youngest son of the most prominent family within the Eastridge Baptist Community, has never known anything but his sheltered and seemingly quiet family life.Dean - the eldest son of a recent convert and new resident of the Community, knows he will never know anything but the pain and anguish of his father.Castiel’s missing brother drives them together but outside forces threaten to tear them apart.Only God really knows what is in store for them.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Theres not much for me to say right now, but I will make sure to put *shudder* trigger warnings at the beginning of any dodgy chapters. I'm also gonna say that I'm not planning any full on in your face crazy stuff until right at the end. I also have plans for two follow up fics and they're likely to have explicit stuff. Who knows where this is going, I don't, of I do, but i don't know about the in-between stuff. 
> 
> So this prologue is mostly me just plopping in some foreshadowing and stuff, don't worry too much. A few references to suicidal thought, and some implied abuse/torture.

 

The birthday cake in front of him is adorned with candles, sixteen to be exact. And they glow with a happy brightness that lights up his face with flickering colours of orange and yellow.

 

“Remember to pray before you blow them out,” his mother says, she smiles kindly but he finds he cannot return the gesture. 

 

“Yes, ma” he says as he diligently bows his head and moves his lips silently as if praying, but he is not saying a word. He doesn't deserve the Lord’s kindness, he is unclean.

 

He feels a hand on his shoulder and he looks up at the man who towers over him. The grip is hard, and he is sure it will leave bruises.

 

“Now blow out your candles, theres a good boy,” he blows them out, the grip tightens further when he misses one. He quickly blows out the final candle and bows his head as his father begins to pray from across the room.

 

He wipes his stray tear as it escapes, he wishes he was dead.

 

——

 

The birthday cake in front of him is smaller than last years, but has more candles, now seventeen. They still glow happily, and they still light the world around them like they were trying to remove every last trace of darkness from around them. 

 

He rubs his thigh where his candles from last year were used to burn him. He must not miss a single candle this year, he does not want to be punished.

 

“Remember to pray when you blow them out,” his little brother says, bright blue eye glowing in the light of the evil horrible candles. 

 

He nods and bows his head and moves his lips silently, but does not say a thing, refusing to pray to a God who has forsaken him. 

 

This year, two hands reach out and grip both of his shoulders, he can feel the hot mass of the man standing behind him and he shudders slightly. 

 

“Now blow them all out, don't miss a single one,” the man says, his voice is cheerful but he knows the threat of punishment is there. 

 

He misses five. He doesn't want to do what this man asks. He’ll take whatever punishment is given.

 

——

 

There is no birthday cake this year. Instead there is only a door which he flings open at four in the morning on the day he turns eighteen.

 

“Gabriel?” he hears from behind him and he pauses before turning to his young, blue eyed brother, who stands hesitantly at the foot of the stairs.

 

“Castiel” He says, kneeling down in front of the boy.

 

“Where are you going? We made a cake, you mustn't leave.” 

 

“I must, little brother, you must think of me as dead.” He feels tears pricking his eyes as his brother slowly nods, he doesn't understand really. Twelve is still too young to fully understand what death is and why he must pretend his brother is dead. Balthazar would have to teach him. 

 

He feels the pull of duty urging him to stay and protect his brother from the man. Balthazar wouldn't be able to do that, he would be weak and slow and useless, not fitting as the future head of their family. 

 

But he knows his mother would never let anything happen to the little blue eyed angel, even if she allowed such things to happen to him. And so he stands, pressing a firm kiss to his brother’s forehead and then turns and vanishes into the night.

 


	2. Newcomers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter.

The car was silent and cold. They had been driving for hours and Dean didn’t think he would ever hate the Impala, but today he did. It had been less than a week since his mother a died.

 

His father’s obsession with his mother had reached critical. There was no escaping the hounded, dark look in his eyes. 

 

“Eastridge,” he had muttered, “your mother was from Eastridge.”

 

It hadn’t meant anything to Dean. Eastridge could have been the moon for all he cared. But the moment his father had told them to pack their bags, it had become their whole world. 

 

Now they were travelling there, no words were uttered by their father as to the purpose of a visit to the enigmatic Eastridge. They were just going to visit the place his mom grew up, he was sure of it of it back then. But the further they drove the less sure he became. The countryside whipped past, making way from lush rolling fields to thick forest and mountains. 

 

Dean had never been out of Kansas and he looked with wonderment as he watched the forest deepen and darken, until no sunlight broke through the heavy canopy. He had thought such places only existed in movies and books. He was so wrong. 

 

Sammy hummed a little tune beside him and Dean felt a swell of pride when he realised that it was AC/DC’s Highway to Hell. It had taken long enough but it seemed the younger boy had finally accepted the awesomeness that was rock and roll. Dean turned to him and tapped Sammy on the shoulder. He stopped humming and looked over at Dean. 

 

Dean started to hum the song again, and Sammy smiled as he joined in, they built together towards the chorus. Nodding their heads as if they were actually at a concert, and not in the back of an old car driving to God knows where.

 

“I’m on highway to hell!” they sang loudly as they reach the crescendo of the song, smiling as Dean lifted up his hands like he was playing guitar.

 

“Boys!” barks John from the front seat. They fall silent instantly. “That’s the devil’s music and I won’t have it in my car no more, understand?”

 

“Yes, sir,” they chorused. 

 

The car fell back into a heavy silence, the strange tone Dean’s dad had used troubled the teen. His father had never shown a regard for God or the Devil before. That he would start now was… concerning. 

 

Dean huffed as he slumped back against the soft leather of the backseat. Sammy started to dig into his bag and eventually pulled out a textbook his favourite teacher gave him.

 

“What you readin’?” Dean asked quietly, motioning to the book. Sammy silently tipped the book up until Dead could read the heading for the passage - Charles Darwin and the Theory of Evolution.

 

“Seems like boring major nerd stuff” Dean quips, smiling good naturally at his brother’s epic bitch face.

 

“What’s that?” asked John, turing his head slightly to look at Dean from the corner of his eye.

 

“Nothin’” Dean mumbled, looking down at his hands which rubbed up and down his knees nervously. 

 

“Speak up boy,” John demanded. 

 

“Nothing, sir” Dean replied, speaking loudly.

 

John huffed and turned back to the road. Sammy slowly pulled the book back from where he stowed it hurriedly in his bag. 

 

“Sammy!” Dean whispered quickly, leanings close as he could get to Sammy, “put that away before Dad sees it, he wouldn't like it!” 

 

Sammy gave him sad puppy dog eyes before quietly putting it back in his bag. Sammy leaned back in his seat then, crossing his arms and sighing as he turned his head to look out of his window. Refusing to make eye contact with Dean.

 

Dean turned to his own window then and rolled down the window, the smell of pine and dirt flooded the car. Mist had started to form at the tops of the trees and the road had become narrower, winding its way around the mountain.

 

“Dad? How much further to go?” Sammy asked quietly “I need to pee.”

 

“Just hold it son, shouldn't be much further.” He glanced at the map beside him and huffed quietly slowing the car and scouring the road before spotting a hidden left turn. The forest seemed to close in on them as they made a slow turn in the narrow drive and Dean quickly wound the window up, it didn’t seem unlikely that there would be monsters hidden amongst the trees. 

 

They all sighed with relief when a sign appears, on it written ‘Five Miles to Eastridge Baptist Community, Hallelujah.’ Dean scoffed to himself, he was sure it wasn't meant that way, but hallelujah was right. 

 

Eastridge wasn't at all what Dean had been expecting. He was sure it was going to be a small collection of wood houses and an outdoor dunny. But out here, hidden in the thick wood, was a sprawling town with large and beautiful buildings, hidden behind high walls and a large gate. 

 

Dean whistled as they stopped outside large wrought-iron gate. It looked like the kind of place you find in television shows, the greenery looked neatly trimmed, and the roads and footpaths were spotless from what he could see. It had an other-worldly quality that made Dean’s skin crawl.

 

Ever since his mother had died, he had felt the burden of caring for the family: making sure Sammy was getting the care and support he needed; making sure his father didn’t fly off the rails. Now his spider-senses were going nuts and the only thing he wanted to do was take the wheel of the Impala and drive them straight out of this God-forsaken place.

 

John hoisted himself out of the car and smiled broadly as he shut the car door and moved forward to the gate, where two men are waiting, having approached the gate when they spotted the car. Dean rolled down his window and shushed the marvelling Sammy so he could hear what the men were saying.

 

“Brother John, welcome,” said the first man. “I am Brother Ishim, and this is Brother Alastair, we are elders here at the Community.” 

 

_The Community? What did that mean?_

 

“Pleasure to meet you,” John said.

 

“I understand from your conversation with Brother Ishim that you wish to join us here, is that correct?” asked the second who was called Alastair.

 

_…Join them?_

 

“Yes, my wife… has gone to heaven… and I learnt that she was raised here. So I’ve come here to be closer to her - and to God, of course” John added hurriedly.

 

_Be closer to God? Had his father gone insane?_

 

“Of course,” said Alastair, smiling slightly.

 

“You should come in then, Brother John, we have prepared a house for you. I hope it is to your liking” said Brother Ishim, who waved to the man at the gatehouse.

 

 _They had prepared a house for them? If they thought that his dad could last more than two days in a bible-thumper community then they had another thing coming_. 

 

The gate rattled slightly as it opened, groaning on its hinges and making way for the Impala and her passengers.

 

John hurried back to the car and carefully steered her through the gap and into the Community. 

 

Dean stared at the town as they went past. The road they were on seemed to be a main street of some kind, it was lined on either side by shops and cafes. Sammy seemed to grow even more excited as they passed a bookstore - Dean was pretty sure they wouldn't find any of the books that Sammy would like in there. 

 

There was a pretty green area at the end of the road, it was basically the centre of an overgrown roundabout but in the middle stood a large pavilion. There were a group of people standing in it and Dean realised belated that they were a choir.

 

He paused and stares at one particular boy as they drove past. He seemed out of place among the neatly trimmed group: his hair was shockingly messy and chaotic; and his posture was poor, leaving him look withdrawn and shy. 

 

Dean stared at the boy until he was out of sight, hidden but the other members around him. They exited the extraordinarily large intersection and continued straight, moving into a more suburban area. 

 

“Dad?” 

 

“Yes, Dean,” John sighed.

 

“How do you know where you’re going?” Dean asked

 

His father paused for a second, 

 

“The Lord will guide me,” he said after a moment.

 

“So you got directions from that Ishim guy?” Sammy asked.

 

“I got directions from that Ishim guy,” John affirmed, turning laughing eyes to Sammy. 

 

The road ended in a T, a dirt path branched straight ahead, weaving into a dark thicket of trees.

 

They make a left, then another after a few hundred meters and Dean began to wonder how large this place actually was. 

 

The homes looked cheery enough, if not slightly plain. Every so often there would be a house with a different colour roof or a garden in full bloom. One of the homes had a large verandah wrapping around it, and another seemed to have a third floor built into the roof. But all of these apparelled to be additions to an otherwise basic shell.

 

 _Excellent targets for break-ins_ , Dean thought — _if they all had the same layout, then theirs would know right where the money shot would be in every home_.

 

His father stopped the car out front of one of the houses, Ishim was already there, waving them down. 

 

 _There must have been a shorter way there if Ishim beat them_ , Dean thought.

 

They all climbed out and Sammy gravitated to Dean’s side, tugging at his shirt. Dean bent down slightly and Sammy whispered in his ear.

 

“I thought we were only visiting, why are we getting a new house?”

 

“I don’t know,” Dean said, frowning at the boring house that looked exactly like all of its neighbours “when they were talking to Dad, it was as if they expected us to say.”

 

“Sounds like a cult” Sammy commented. 

 

Dean was concerned with how on-the-nose Sammy seemed to be.

 

“Well,” Ishim said, gesturing towards the two story home. “Here it is, the girls cleaned it for you, and you can add whatever improvements you would like. A garage maybe? for the beauty you’ve rolled in here in?”

 

John smiled, nodding, “this is awfully kind of you folks.”

 

“Well, we were just so excited to have Mary’s boys, and husband, coming here. Theres nothing like grief to guide one to the Lord.” He said it like he was reading the party line, clasping his hands in front of him.

 

John nodded sagely and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Ishim’s loud boom:

 

“Castiel! Come here boy, and meet our newcomers.” 

 

The Winchesters turned to look the same direction as Ishim, to where the boy from the pavillon was stood a little away with the second man. He seemed to pause, before a little nudge from Alastair propelled him to Ishim.

 

“John, this is my youngest son, Castiel.” Ishim pulled Castiel to him, hands landing on his shoulders as he presented him to John. 

 

“Nice to meet you Castiel, these are my boys Dean and Sam.” John motions to them in turn as he introduces them. “Say thats a real interestin’ name you got there Castiel.”

 

“He was named for the Angel of thursday, all of my children were named for angels. It’s a tradition held in a few of the older families here in the Community,” Ishim said. 

 

John nodded, “my boys were named for Mary’s parents.”

 

“Yes, Samuel and Deanne — such wonderful brothers and sisters in christ — they are sorely missed in here.” Alastair said, eyeing the boys as he came to join the group “I hope your boys will live up to their name-sakes and follow the Lord just as devoutly.” 

 

His eyes lingered on Dean a second too long and Dean shuffled uncomfortably, not wishing to embarrass his father by making a scene with a snarky quip about how photos last longer et cetera. That was when he noticed that the other boy’s, _Castiel’s_ , eyes had not left him.

 

They were studying him with a careful curiosity commonly found in animals and Dean narrowed his own at the shorter boy. Ignoring the sinful blueness of them, and the gentle, beautiful smile twisting the boy’s mouth. 

 

Ishim tapped the boy’s shoulders to get his attention and the boy, Castiel, craned his neck around to meet his father’s eyes.

 

“Tell your mother to expect three more for dinner, I expect she’d like to meet Mary’s boys.”

 

“Oh, no, we couldn't impede —“ John began.

 

“We’ll hear none of it,” Ishim said, throwing his arm over John’s shoulder and guiding him up to the house. 

 

Castiel stood where he was, still studying the newcomers.

 

“Castiel,” said Alastair “I believe your father made a request of you, you should run along if you wish for her to have enough time to prepare.”

 

Castiel seemed to jump at this and nodded at Alastair before scampering away without another word. 

 

Alastair watched the boy go for a few seconds before motioning for Dean and Sammy to follow Ishim and John, who had now entered the house.

 

Dean felt strangely protective of his brother as they walked up the short path across the neat grass. Sammy clung to his arm, showing his youth in an uncharacteristic and vulnerable way. 

 

The door swung open without a noise, making a soft thudding noise as it landed agains the wall protector. The hallway was floored with a dark stained wood that Dean thought must be pine given the abundance of the resource within the area. Stairs stood to the right of the hallway, leading up to a small landing with a hall shooting off to the left.

 

Dean and Sammy started to move down the hallway and the first door they reached on the left seemed to lead into a pretty living room. The front door shut loudly behind them, making the brothers jump and they turned to look back at Alastair who only smiled at them.

 

Dean tugged his brother on, passing what looked like a dining room. And finally at the end of the hallway was a kitchen, with a central island around which John and Ishim stood.

 

Ishim looked up and smiled. The island was covered in paper, John seemed to be reading through them, signing his signature every now and then.

 

“Hey boys, why don't you go upstairs and check out the bedrooms? There are three so you could have one each.” He suggested, but Dean felt like it was more of an order than a suggestion.

 

He looked to his father was glanced up and then nodded his head in the direction of the stairs. Dean turned and tugged his brother back down the hall. 

 

Sammy didn’t protest as he was forcibly dragged up the stairs and into the first room Dean could get into. Which happened to be a relatively small room painted a light grey colour with a window facing the back garden and the forest beyond.

 

“We gotta get outta here Sammy,” Dean said, trying to get the window open with no luck.

 

“Where are we ‘sposed to go?” asked Sammy.

 

“Anywhere, Uncle Bobby’s maybe, we can’t stay here.”

 

“But we can’t leave Dad!” Sammy protested.

 

“We’ll take Dad with us,” Dean pleaded.

 

“Dad obviously doesn't want to leave, if he’s bought a house then he wants to stay, and I want to stay with Dad.”

 

Dean huffed, “just cause you're Dad’s favourite.” He sat heavily on the small single bed in the corner and rubbed his face.

 

“Dad loves us both,” Sammy said, rubbing Dean’s shoulder consolingly.

 

“Dad hasn't loved me since Mom died, Sammy.”

 

Sammy sat beside him quietly. 

 

“I don’t like the colour of this room that much. It’s too gloomy, but it might look good with your posters.” Sammy said, knocking his heels on the floor, hands folded in his lap. 

 

Dean turned his head towards his brother and then looked about the room. “What if the other one turns out to be super small? I won’t let you trade.”

 

“Yes you will,” Sammy said and he skipped out of the room, making excited exclamations with every new room he explored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited because I hated it, now I don't dislike it so much, and the tense makes so much more sense.


End file.
